


Growing Grounds

by hydrangea



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dwarven Culture, F/M, Golden Age (Narnia)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26302162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydrangea/pseuds/hydrangea
Summary: The tale of a dwarven woman after the Pevensies return to England at the end of LWW.
Relationships: Tumnus/Original Female Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: Narnia Fic Exchange 2020





	Growing Grounds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosefox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosefox/gifts).



The day their majesties disappeared was the day I gave birth to my daughter. For good or for ill, the two will forever be intertwined in my mind - the joy of a child mixed with the sorrow of losing our kings and queens. I was, however, at the same time grateful: grateful that they had not disappeared before leaving us an heir - though a very young heir indeed. We had lived through an unjust and uncertain reign before - we had no desire to do so again after only a few years of peace.

I know little of the affairs of the kingdom in the time after their disappearance. The rearing of a young one is always busy work and mine was busier than most. A dwarven child is a rare event and my pregnancy had been a hard one. I was slow to heal and without someone at my side, the combination of childcare and household work was difficult to keep up. I never resented my daughter for my constant fatigue, but some days that was harder than others.

Everything became easier after the first six months. My daughter settled into a routine and I felt safe enough about her survival that I named her: Lusu, after the queens. They might not have been part of my life for very long, but their influence on it had not been small. A dwarven woman only thirty years ago would never have dared to carry a child to term. That I had had the opportunity - the option of keeping my daughter - and doing so safely… Naming her for the queens that lead the effort to create that safety was the least I could do.

It was a little over a year after Lusu’s birth that I heard the news: the regent and advisors were looking for a dwarven woman to help raise the princess heir into her full heritage. Something inside me woke up at that moment. I knew that this was what I was supposed to do.

I packed up our household that very day, preparing for the five days of travel to Cair Paravel.

I shouldn’t have been surprised when Advisor Tumnus met me at the gate.

Aslan works in mysterious ways.

“And what is this little one’s name?” Tumnus asked, once I had introduced myself. He held out a hand to Lusu and let her grip it, smiling when she immediately attempted to put it in her mouth.

“This is Lusu,” I introduced my daughter. “She is of an age with the princess, but for a few months.”

Tumnus gently touched my daughter’s nose. She wrinkled it, then laughed. “It will be an honour to have you and Lusu as part of the family,” he said solemnly.

And it was then, with the mention of there being a sense of  _ family _ , that I knew everything would be all right.

  
  


Lusu and young Navra grew up together. With her half-human heritage, Navra was half again as tall as Lusu, but her features and build were all dwarf. I made sure to teach her everything about dwarven culture and history - and to educate her in the particularities of dwarven women. It was knowledge that she would need to secure her an heir - though I had my own suspicions regarding whether a marriage would accompany that heir. I never said anything, however. Children must choose for themselves - or they will resent not getting the opportunity to do so.

As for me… I spent more time with Tumnus than I had expected. Dwarves and fauns are...not known to be easy friends.

“Whyever not?” Tumnus asked when I told him this one evening, watching over the children as they played on the woollen mats in front of the fireplace. “I have never heard of any strife between our people.”

I laughed. “Between dwarven  _ men _ and fauns, perhaps not. But as for dwarven  _ women _ … In some ways we might as well be another race - our histories are on many points very different indeed.”

“It’s more than the much spoken rivalry between males and females?”

I held my tongue for a moment, trying not to say more than I truly wanted. We dwarven women hold our secrets close to hearts - even from our men - though the reasons for doing so are partly lost to history.

“We live separately,” I finally said, deciding that I might as well give the information that was freely - if carefully - given. “By custom and expedience.” A thought struck me. “Perhaps that’s why the prevailing perception that there are no dwarven women exists.”

“Perhaps,” Tumnus agreed. “I do know that you are only the second woman dwarf I have met in my lifetime - and I’m not young by any means.” He touched his greying hair ruefully.

“Oh, pish posh,” I said. “I believe I’m only a dozen years or so from my hundredth year - compared to me, you’re very young indeed!”

Tumnus’ eyes widened, then, after a moment, he nodded. “I...had not thought of it so, but I have known some dwarves for a very long time. They do not seem to age at the rate of a faun - I have never seen a dwarf looking unhale or aged.”

“Is that a compliment?” I teased him, knowing full well that my russet hair has not a strand of grey.

Tumnus looked startled. Then his eyes softened in a way that made my tummy grow warm. “It most definitely is.”

  
  


It was the first of many evenings spent together. Come the spring equinox, we made the decision to dance the fires together and make it official. Tumnus made a handsome sight with the marriage ribbons around his wrists and crown of branches and spring blossoms in his hair. From the look in his eyes as he saw me in my best leatherwork and with my hair braided, he thought much the same of me.

“I’m glad that Aslan sent you to me,” he told me in the early morning as we lay exhausted after a night of feasting. “I knew the moment I saw you at the castle gates that you were the person we needed for Navra. I just didn’t know you were the person  _ I _ needed as well.”

I rested my head on his shoulder, enjoying his larger body next to mine. “I never thought I was to find love,” I admitted. “Lusu...was a blessing, but there was no romance.”

“Then we are both blessed,” Tumnus said.

I didn’t answer that, as I was fast asleep.

  
  
  


Their majesties’ disappearance remained a mystery, but Navra grew up to be a strong queen, who I was proud to have helped raise. She did marry, but, as I had suspected since long, she married my daughter. They raised an heir together - Navra never said who the father was and no one asked. There were few families intact after the long winter, and many family lines had grown with adoption and fostering rather than blood heirs. That the queen should choose not to have a father for her child - well, she wouldn’t be the first.

Tumnus and I retired once Lusu and Navra’s son had reached his schooling years. By then, even my hair had gained some greys and I knew that my love had only a handful years left to share with me. I wanted to enjoy them as best as I could.

One day, in that very last autumn we had together, I asked Tumnus if he had ever had any thoughts about what had happened with their majesties. I had, through the years, noticed that every time they were mentioned, he got a wistful look on his face, and I would not have been at all surprised if he had held the answers for this entire time.

“I believe they went home,” he said as an answer to my hesitant question. He was staring into the deep forest beyond our home, as if he could see the hunt as it had left that day. “They weren’t from here, you see, and I don’t suppose they were meant to stay.”

I thought about that. “I’m not sure whether to feel angry or blessed,” I admitted.

“Angry?” Tumnus turned to look at me.

“Angry that we needed people not from here to stop the witch,” I elaborated. “Or blessed that someone from the outside cared enough to try.”

“Ah.” Tumnus took my hand and squeezed it. “The world is certainly complicated.”

I could do nothing but agree.

  
  
  


Tumnus passed away as winter turned to spring. As I placed some early crocus on the window sill overlooking his resting place, I thought that I would miss him. And, that in the end, I did feel blessed. After all, their majesties had done much good for Narnia - no small amount of which had been a blessing to me.

In the end, I thought, I would change nothing at all.

  
  
  



End file.
